


At Three A.M.

by olivemartini



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Nightmares, Romance, around 1x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer has a nightmare, and someone helps them go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Three A.M.

Spencer couldn't sleep.

Clary had heard him all night, tossing and turning out on the couch.  She had stood in the doorway of his bedroom for a while, watching his silhouette by the light of the television screen, but finally got so tired she had to turn away.  And now, woken up  by his late night wanderings, she wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all.

Clary threw off the covers, stumbling out of bed and into the hallway.  Sure enough, he was leaning up against the counter, pouring his trademark cup of sugar into his coffee.  His frame looked smaller than normal, somehow, his hair messed up and face haunted.  He looked older than he did, like he had seen something he'd rather forget.

(He wants to forget a lot of things, she knew.  He wanted to forget most everything.)

"Spencer?"  She stepped into the light, conscious of the fact that this was a startlingly domestic situation, meeting in their shared kitchen in the middle of the night while, her coming to see why he wasn't in bed.  It was something she had seen her mother do for her father many times, chasing after her father when the bad nights sent him running.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.  I'm having trouble sleeping, it's nothing."  He turned to face her, and she was struck by how pale he was, how dark the shadows under his eyes had become.   He ran a hand through his hair, making it even more rumpled.  "Go back to bed, Clary."

Clary didn't move.  She had been Spencer's best friend long before he had joined the BAU, even before he had known he was some sort of super genius.  She knew when he was okay, and when he wasn't.  They were neighbors, and they grew up together.  Even as the other kids started to notice the slight differences -how he talked, how he dressed, what he liked, what he read- they had already become best friends.  She stuck by him even as he got moved up into the high school, someone to lean on when the kids were too mean. 

She even supported him when he ran off to the FBI, becoming part of the BAU and getting a gun.  She had screamed and cursed and hugged him tight after his first time out on the field, and again every time he came back bloody and bruised or slightly hurt.  But she had stayed his best friend.  This was not an okay Spencer.

"If you can't sleep, coffee isn't going to help."  She crossed the kitchen and took the cup away from him, their finger tips brushing.  Clary half expected him to fight her for it, but he only slumped over, exhausted. 

"Clary, please."  He turned his red, tired eyes on her, and she had to fight the urge to hug him.  And she understood.

Spencer hadn't wanted her to come stay with him, not at first.  Her boyfriend was kicking her out, and she had no where to go, so she turned to him.  He had almost said no, but reluctantly agreed, and they've taken turns switching off between the couch and his bed.  She had been hurt that he didn't want her there, but now she saw why.

"You still have a few hours before you have to be up.  Go back to sleep.  I'll take the couch, you go to the bed."

"It won't help."  His voice was dull, defeated.  She was so used to hearing his voice, constantly and incessantly, she didn't know what to do when he didn't seem inclined to talk. 

"Then come to bed with me."  She laced her fingers through his and tugged, leading him towards the bed room door.  They were about to cross a line, she knew, but he wasn't putting up much of a protest.  Neither one of them spoke as she did it, not when she pulled the covers over the both of them, not when she flicked off the light.

Not even when he grabbed her hand underneath the covers, not even when she heard his breathing turn shaky like he was trying not to cry. 

"I see them."  The words came much later, with both of them wide awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering when it would be okay to get up.  Neither had gone back to sleep.  "Every night."

"Who?"

It was silent again.  Clary didn't dare look at him, didn't even speak.  "The people I didn't save."

"There's so many of them Clary.  So many people that want to hurt other people, so many people who _only know_ how to hurt other people.  Monsters are everywhere, and they make more monsters, and even when we catch them its because they did something bad that we couldn't stop, something horrible..."  He was gulping in air now, his hand gripping tightly to hers.  "The things they do, it's like all these crazy people are having a competition to see who can be scarier.  And once we catch one, there's five more stepping up to take their place.  Monsters just create more monsters, and their creations are always worse."

She didn't say anything.  She just held him until the sun came up, trying to keep thoughts like that away with sheer will power.

 

The next night, he crawled into bed with her.  They didn't touch, even though she wanted to hold him more than anything, to try to stop the nightmare before it started.  And when he woke up, shaking and screaming, she kissed him for the first time, unable to think of anything else to do. 

He stared at her, mouth open, one hand still on her cheek.  Clary smiled gently.  "Go to sleep Spencer."

And he did.


End file.
